Not just an ordinary festive fixture but a DSPAFC festive fixture

This was no ordinary game; it was a succulent, robust, mouth-watering, even tantalisingly mouthwatering D and S AFC football game. Christmas came early for those who braved the winter chill, where the frost was deep and crisp and even, much like the style of play on this memorable eve. The Advent calendars of the players popped open and amazed all. What a feast of football.

The pack of hardy red-nosed stalwarts arrived in their usual casual manner and yet we did field a strong 4v4. They were layered up to the hilt and there was even talk of some wearing the thermals!!!! There were hats, scarves, multiple socks, far-from subtle knitwear was unpacked and well-packed with rippling six-packs; basically it appeared that Christmas had indeed come early. Gilesinho took hold of the situation early doors and called for an Engerland IVs the Rest of the World/DSPAFC selection/wishlist. The overseas representatives bibbed up and took on the 3 Lions. No need for an interpreter here, make no mistake, the only language spoken was the language of football at its most advanced level. The bonding was instantaneous. It was On.

The RotW4 took advantage in the opening minutes, their energy levels being higher - they had obviously planned to unsettle the lions by converting the cold air into hand-warming shots from every point of the compass: the flair was there alright.But they soon became complacent, losing themselves in overindulgent runs, elaborate passing, discarded packaging and generally pissing about. However they were always a threat. Mainly to themselves. Conngiggskï, suffering with a bad dose of man flu, spent most of his time in the back of the 3-1 formation as they battled against the ever-changing Lions shape - sometimes a flat 4 and other times a diamond with a hint of a star on the horizon, leading them to glory or a close one anyway.

It was as ever a tight end with the lions making up for indiscretions early on and moving on the tricky surface like Torvill and Dean in Helsinki, or wherever. Wolfkaiser, however, took on all around him, and as ever his stockings were near to bursting with his gifted legs (what a gift for any team!). But his stuffed stockings were his downfall in missing an open goal, the selection box of an opportunity went a begging as he tried to remote control the ball into the net (watch out next time: batteries not inclued). Again the World 4 went for crowd pleasing above getting results: "appearance over substance" (Anon.). Tis a time for giving and all that but it was soon a case of Pantomime season on the half hour mark. Waddolucci had a jolly time ‘tween the sticks, thwarting multiple opportunities that the world had to sew up the last game of the season. High Ball, "Oh no it wasn’t"; "Backdoor" was replaced with a comical "He’s behind you!". "Never mind the gala dinner, this is a feast in itself", quipped Waddolucci as he skipped down the wing like an elf nipping off down the Lapland Arms while the gaffer slumbered in front of a bumper edition of Opportunity Knocks. It was Heston's perfect Christmas! Nigella's trip down to the festive fridge for a midnight feast. Mmmmmm! Oh the banter was at a new high. No need to take the elastic band off the minitature scroll containing a festive joke or limerick here to have a chuckle. No it was all laid on. "Oh no it wasn't!". Ho ho ho (that's enough now - Ed.)

Goals were too many to mention, to paraphrase the great Mick Hucknell, but Garrattino had a particularly cheeky Eggnog back-heel into the onion sack which will be remembered for all the right reasons. Oh yes it was a peach.

Waddolucci has cancelled his application for his allotment on the flanks after receiving multiple beautifully weighted passes in the open areas and has decided to go the DIY route. He scored a beauty early on but anyone who was there to witness the festive match this evening, saw what could have been THE goal of the season. He took the ball on the move, controlled and let fly with his trusted boot. It was blinding, it was curling, and it had a new home in the top right corner. But it was brushed on to the post and away for a corner by Conngiggskï’s reflex save. All present, including pitch no. 2, fell into a stunned silence, the squirrels glanced from the frosted ground, dropping their nuts, a crow stopped mid flight and fell into the centre circle. Swimmers in the nearby sports centre missed a stroke. It would have, it should have but it wasn’t to be.

On an evening which lived up to its billing on Radio 5 where Coweysqatsi was guest commentator, there were souffle-assisted volleys, intricate diagonal icing on the cake interplay (followed by finishes worthy of a drunken relative who's been sucking the cherry brandy bottle dry while "we're walking in the air" splurges out of the goggle box), plum puddings dispatched into the side netting and slices of cake that went down very well with the home crowd.

It was quite a game with little afters, much like the Gala Dinner, more of which later, or rather now.

The Gala Dinner was also a great success; the players quickly donned their festive football suits and headed to the pavilion. Drinks flowed, well much like any other Monday. The Superfoods were ordered and we had a fine old time. Apart from Wolfkaiser. The backroom nutritionist didn’t agree with his request and so had to wait 40 minutes to get a foodstuff he did not want. But his body is a temple. El Darrylinho, Roperaroo along with Campellese joined the carb-fest, despite having been on the treatment table all week, and regaled all those present with tales of their xmas shopping. What an auspicious sign glimmering in the sky it was that after all the transfers, possible moves abroad, a couple on Bosmans, others on buy-out clauses, that we could all sit down and discuss the season that had been so far, the festive season and the post-seasonal left-overs. Not a turkey in sight but trimmings, baubles and silverware all the way.